


Lethargy and Good "Good Mornings"

by Cawaiiey



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Barebacking, Consensual Somnophilia, Creampies, Dirty Talk, Hanzo Shimada is a slut for mccree's mcdick, I GOT SHOOK BY A PROMPT ON TUMBLR, M/M, dick piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8698120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cawaiiey/pseuds/Cawaiiey
Summary: Long-distance relationships meant sparse meetings, and lethargy when one switched time-zones. Hanzo doesn't mind that his cowboy is tired, though he lets him know just how much a wake-up "surprise" would be and is, well, surprised at what he wakes up to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS THE PROMPT THAT FUCKED ME UP: 
> 
> would you ever write a fic of mccree getting the dick piercings to surprise hanzo? maybe young mccree comes back to hanamura with his dick pierced because he heard it felt good for their partner and hanzo sees them and he just goes wild bc he loves them

Hanzo Shimada, young heir to the Shimada-gumi, did not like airports at all. They were always packed and smelled like too much disinfectant, and an important heir like him had to be careful when he was in such an easily accessible location. But he needed to be here. There was someone very important arriving today that he had to retrieve, and he would not let one of his guards go and greet his guest like he may have done for others. So, while Hanzo Shimada did  _ not _ enjoy being in an airport--

“Hanzo, darlin’!” 

Hanzo did enjoy seeing his long-distance boyfriend for the first time in months. And the pleasure of seeing him, with his backpack on and his suitcase rolling behind him, running towards him through a crowd of people, was not something he would deny himself. He’d suffer through the airport a hundred times just to see McCree again. 

He couldn’t stop the wide grin that split his lips, nor the quick steps he took towards his boyfriend. His guards approached with him, at a respectable and inconspicuous distance, flanking him in case there was someone looking to harm the Shimada heir around. He watches as McCree stops running and throws his arms out to the side, beckoning the shorter man forward with a wide grin. Hanzo forgot about his normal paranoia in favor and running at McCree and throwing himself into the man’s waiting arms. 

Jesse swings him around in a circle, his arms tight around Hanzo’s waist, as he laughed that deep and sweet baritone laugh, which rocked the young Shimada heir straight to the core. A swell of affection surges within him, loosening him up enough to laugh and cling to his boyfriend, the loneliness from months and months without seeing him bleeding away with the man wrapped around him. McCree sets him down, still holding onto him tightly, and captures his lips in a sweet kiss that Hanzo can’t help but melt into.

The slide of their mouths against each other is electric after so long apart. Video calls could only do so much, could only satisfy him for so long until he needed to see him. And, what with Blackwatch business, it was difficult to find a time when he could fly out to Hanamura. But he was attentive and sweet, even thousands of miles away. Enough so that Hanzo was still deeply in love with him, even after so many months. McCree is kissing him so insistently that he knows that his boyfriend feels the same way. He presses against Jesse in kind, tilting his head and deepening the kiss as much as he wills to, what with the throng of people still moving around them. One of the cowboy’s hands goes to cup his backside, and that’s when Hanzo breaks the kiss. 

“Wait until we are behind closed doors, Jesse,” he laughs against his lips, while his boyfriend adopts a pout and tries to close the gap between them again. Hanzo moves out of the way, slipping out of his embrace and settling back on his heels. The man reaches for him immediately, cupping his face and leaning down to close the distance between the two of them once more. The archer lets him steal another few kisses before he pulls away for good, threading their fingers together and tugging him in the direction of the exit. Jesse falls into step next to him, squeezing his hand and whistling a showy tune. 

Hanzo feels like he cannot stop smiling, as they exit the airport and head over to where a car is waiting for him. His guards scoop up McCree’s belongings and deposit them in the trunk, and then open the door for the pair. Jesse looks slightly uncomfortable from the attention, though he smiles politely and slides into the car, Hanzo following. He immediately squeezes in as close to McCree as the cowboy can stand, snuggling up against his side with a happy sigh. Hanzo notes that his lover has gotten a bit more muscular since the last time he’d been here, those gangly limbs and bird chest filling out quite nicely into toned muscle. His boyfriend makes a happy noise in the back of his throat and wraps an arm around his shoulders tugging him even closer, just short of pulling the man into his lap. Hanzo tucks his head underneath Jesse’s chin, feeling more content than he’d felt in a long time. 

“Missed you so much,” he hears his boyfriend whisper into his hair, before the cowboy leaves a kiss on his scalp. Hanzo’s smile is wide enough that it threatens to split his lips. 

“I missed you too, Jesse.” 

The drive to Hanamura is filled with Hanzo stealing kisses and listening to Jesse talk about Blackwatch and his missions. He spends the time not spinning tales of his do-and-dare by telling Hanzo about how much he missed him and all the things that reminded him of the young Shimada heir during their time apart. If Hanzo had not shut him up with a kiss, he was sure the blood rushing to his cheeks would have made his head burst. As it was, Jesse was happy to occupy his mouth with kissing Hanzo breathless. 

The drive from the airport to Hanamura was, unfortunately, a long one, and Jesse started to droop slightly about three-quarters of the way through the long ride. Hanzo looked up at him with a content smile and an arch of his brow, at which McCree assured him he was not, in fact, tired. He didn’t believe it for a second, but the gunslinger was determined to stay awake, as he started to talk about anything and everything he could think of, yawning periodically throughout his stories. After the fifth deep, jaw-cracking yawn, Hanzo leveled him with a confused look. 

“If you are so tired, Jesse, why do you not sleep?” 

Jesse ducks his head head the question, averting his eyes from Hanzo. He cocks a brow, leaning in closer, close enough to brush his nose against the cowboy’s. His boyfriend’s sun-kissed skin darkens under his scrutiny, which Hanzo notes with a sense of satisfaction.  _ Adorable _ . He hums in the back of his throat, inquisitive and low, and Jesse finally cracks. 

“Jus’ afraid that, if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up somewhere else, where you’re not here,” he admits, flicking his gaze over to the young Shimada heir’s, “don’t wanna wake up if this is a dream.” 

This cowboy will surely be the death of him, he thinks as he surges forward and captures the other man’s lips with his. A line like that should be reserved for cheesy romance novels and movies. 

They end up necking like a pair of teenagers (which, they are not far from being, considering they were in the early stages of their twenties) for the rest of the drive, until they arrive at the private garage around the corner from the castle in which Hanzo resides. The guards get out and open their doors, letting the pair (whose lips were red and spit-slick) slip out of the car. They also grab Jesse’s luggage, much to the cowboy’s apparent discomfort. He knows that the man isn’t used to being treated as such; time with Deadlock and now Blackwatch meant that he was wholly independent and didn’t rely on others. But he knew better than to fight the guards on it; they were likely wary of him, even with Hanzo’s reassurances that Jesse McCree was not a harm to him or the Shimada clan. 

The minute they start walking towards the castle, his hand is quickly taken by Jesse’s. Their callouses catch on each other as they thread their fingers together, Hanzo’s from years of archery and martial arts, and Jesse’s from street brawls and sharpshooting. Hanzo leans his head on the cowboy’s shoulder as best he can, what with the inches that make up their height difference, and sighs in content. His boyfriend echoes the happy sound with one of his own, resting his head close to Hanzo’s while they make their way back to the castle. 

Jesse gapes, like he did the first time, at the sprawling grounds and well-kept gardens, at the cherry-blossom trees and the architecture of Hanzo’s home. He watches his cowboy with an amused smile, loving the childlike way he took everything in. The grounds were gorgeous, especially in the late afternoon sun, everything awash in hues of pink and orange, as the day slowly melded into the night. They take in the sights of Hanzo’s home as they make their way across the grounds and towards the main hall, the fragrance of cherry blossoms assaulting them all the while. They toe their shoes off at the door, respectfully leaving them in the entryway. Jesse’s feet have begun to drag by the time they reach the main hall, and his head drooping by the time they reach Hanzo’s quarters.

The guards walk the pair of them to Hanzo’s room and deposit Jesse’s luggage, deeming it safe enough to leave with the young master, and they leave with low bow at Hanzo’s command. He turns expectantly to his boyfriend, eager to partake in his body now that they’re alone, but, with a single look, Hanzo knows they won’t be doing anything this evening. Not when his lover was almost asleep where he stood, his hand slack in the archer’s grip. He tries not to sigh in disappointment, though it’s difficult when he’d been looking forward to this the entire time that McCree was away. 

“Jesse,” he says softly, and the man in question snaps to attention, head whipping up and back straightening as he wakes up from his slight slumber. He looks ready to take orders, arms straight at his sides, with a determined look on his face. Hanzo raises a brow and, when Jesse realizes where he is, watches the man relax and give him a sheepish smile. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, wondering why his lover didn’t just nap in the car, and steps closer to him so he can wrap his arms around him and snuggle as close to him as possible. Jesse seems to know where this is going, as his hands fall to cup Hanzo’s backside and knead it with his fingers. He tips his head down, heading straight for the archer’s lips, but is stopped by a finger pressing against his mouth. McCree makes a confused sound in the back of his throat, those puppy dog eyes making themselves known once again. And, while Hanzo is usually prey to them, he’s not going to be weak to them this time. 

“Ah ah,” he tuts, arching one elegant brow with a smirk, “you are much too tired to be doing anything like this tonight. Let us sleep and you can ravish me all you’d like in the morning,” he sees the flash of desire in his lover’s eyes that breaks through the tiredness, and, smile widening, he leans in a bit closer to whisper against his lover’s lips, his finger still keeping their mouths separated, “and, maybe, if you wake before me, you can wake me with a  _ surprise _ .” His tone is just  _ dripping _ with innuendo, and, if it wasn’t obvious what he meant, his lascivious grin likely clears up any possible confusion. Jesse’s sharp inhale and rapidly dilating pupils tell him just how much his boyfriend likes  _ that _ particular idea. He looks like he’s about to protest, what with his hands teasing at the waistband of Hanzo’s hakama and his mouth falling open on a ragged intake of breath but, as soon as he tries to speak, he stops to suck in a jaw-cracking yawn. Hanzo levels him with a pointed look and a smirk, as if to say ‘you know I’m right’. 

Jesse grumbles, “alright, fine, I’m mighty tired and you’re right,” and Hanzo smiles softly at him. He moves his finger away from his lover’s lips and grabs his chin instead, pulling him down into the softest and sweetest of kisses. His cowboy hums contentedly against him, keeping one hand firmly planted on his waist and bringing the other up to card through his long hair. He could quickly become a puddle with the way those calloused fingers scratch at his scalp and wrap around the inky black strands, and McCree knows it, if the way he smiles against his archer’s lips is any indication.

Hanzo parts from him rather forcefully, knowing how quickly they’d heat things up, especially with the way his boyfriend was playing with his hair, and reaches back to grab at the hand on his waist. Jesse lets him take it, though he’s pouting again, likely at the lack of kisses he was getting. The Shimada heir rolls his eyes, though he’s smiling, and leads his lover over to the Western-style bed that he’d had them bring in when he found out Jesse was coming. He pauses to leave his hakama and kyudo-gi in a pile on the floor, only clad in boxers now, and flops onto the bed, head turned so he could watch his lover undress. McCree’s eyes are half-lidded as he shucks his jeans and pulls his shirt over his head, that signature hat of his already deposited on the bedside table, and Hanzo fears the man will pass out before he climbs into bed. But his cowboy manages to stay awake for long enough to clamber into bed and pull Hanzo against his chest. His head barely hits the pillow before he’s out like a light.

Hanzo snorts softly at the ridiculousness of it, but snuggles closer nonetheless, tangling their legs together and loosely laying his arm over his boyfriend’s waist. He watches his lover sleep, feeling his chest rise and fall against his, and, slowly, slips into a content and warm sleep. The easiest he’s fallen asleep in months.

He dreams of Jesse. It’s normal for the man to show up in his dreams, although he finds it a little odd, considering that his lover is home with him now. But he’s not one to complain, especially since Dream McCree is peppering his toned thighs with kisses and pistoning three slick fingers in and out of him.  He makes a content sound, heat pumping through his veins with every rapid beat of his heart, as he loses himself to the intense sensations in his dream. This is also not uncommon, for him to dream about the cowboy ravishing him, and he finds he’s not surprised that he’s dreaming of it now, considering that he’d been looking forward to McCree doing just this when they’d gotten home. Regardless of why this was the topic of his dream, he was going to enjoy it. Thoroughly.

Dream McCree presses a fourth finger in, wet and slick with lube, and Hanzo gasps softly at the pressure. He feels the dream man stop for a moment, pausing as if to gauge his reaction, before he begins to stretch him out with more vigor than before. The heat pooled in the pit of Hanzo’s stomach flares up, spreading throughout him so intensely that he feels it in the tips of his fingers and toes. The feeling of so much filling him up, after so long without his lover, was almost too much for the young Shimada heir. Dream McCree pays no mind to his panting moans, as he scissors his fingers and opens him up, playing him like a finely-tuned instrument. Hanzo’s head spins as he’s consumed by the hazy, dream-like pleasure that surges within him with every movement of Jesse’s fingers. 

He wills his Dream boyfriend to cease with the teasing and move on, and, apparently, it works, as those thick, calloused digits slide out of him and the sound of a bottle opening reaches his ears. Hanzo can’t help but whine softly at the lack of heat filling him, clenching around nothing as he waits for Dream McCree to return. He spreads his legs wider when a hand grips his thigh, breathing stuttering as the blunt head of his cock presses against his entrance. Anticipation sits like ice in his veins, a stark contrast to the arousal that’s still heating him up. 

The initial press is always so  _ good _ . As the thickness of his Dream lover pushes into him and encompasses the space that his fingers had left behind, Hanzo cannot help but tip his head back and moan softly. It’s a familiar pressure, a familiar heat, everything is so familiar. And then the familiarities end, as he feels cold metal press against his entrance.

“ _ Jesse! _ ” Hanzo shouts, back arching as his eyes snap open. The cowboy is not laying down next to him like he should have been. Rather, he’s above him, and the pressure from his dream is real, as the first few inches of his cock is inside of Hanzo. He stares up at him, breathing labored, as he tries to adjust to his surroundings, and to the thickness filling him up. McCree looks embarrassed and a bit ashamed, which the archer furrows his brows at, while he reaches shaky hands up to grip at his lover’s shoulders. There’s still the cold press of metal against his entrance, but that’s a question he can save until later, when his boyfriend isn’t trying to slip out of him. 

“Nononono, please, stay, it feels good,” Hanzo assures, clenching around Jesse and wrenching a low groan from his lover’s throat, “why do you look so upset, Jesse?” The man in question ducks his head, much like he did the day prior in the car, though he’s grimacing and not looking at Hanzo. He grabs the cowboy’s face and turns it towards him, though those eyes stay pointed in another direction. Hanzo leans up and presses his lips to his boyfriend’s closed mouth, trying to coerce him into responding to no avail. It’s only when he adopts that characteristic pout that Jesse usually wears when he doesn’t get his way, and says his name one more time, does the man finally concede. 

“I didn’t know how serious you were ‘bout what’cha said last night,” he says, his eyes flicking over to Hanzo’s face before averting once more, a dark flush making itself known on his cheeks, “‘bout wakin’ you up with a surprise. So, thought I’d surprise you, but y’seemed, I dunno. Shocked?” He glares off to the side, seemingly angry with himself, as if he was taking advantage of the archer by doing what he’d insinuated the night prior. Hanzo breathes out a soft laugh and tugs his cowboy a bit closer, kissing him sweetly and delighting in the slight press of his lips back. 

“Of course I was shocked,” Hanzo teases, nipping at his lover’s lower lip and dragging it back for a moment before letting it go (he doesn’t miss Jesse’s sharp inhale, nor the way his tongue darts out to lap at the bitten skin), “who expects to wake up to their attractive boyfriend fucking them?” He cants his hips downward, feeling that metal that was cold against his hole slip inside, and he can’t stop the shuddery gasp that he takes in at the foreign feeling, though he ignores it for a moment in favor of watching his boyfriend tense up and try not to jerk his hips forward. “Though, I will admit, it is quite the nice surprise to wake up to, Jesse,” Hanzo purrs, pushing back a little more and feeling  _ another _ piece of cold metal against his hole, (what the hell are those, and why does the one inside of him feel so damn  _ good _ ?), “so, why don’t you keep going? I want you, Jesse McCree.” 

His cowboy doesn’t hesitate another second, as he braces his hands on either side of Hanzo’s head and leans in, capturing his lips while he starts the steady slide forward. Hanzo cannot help but be hyper aware of the feel of those peculiar metal bumps along his lover’s cock, counting each set as they roll into him. The first ones were already inside of him, and then the second set follows, and then a third, and,  _ god how can there be more, _ four, then five, then,  _ fuck _ , six, before there’s a few more inches, and then Jesse’s hips are pressed flush against his. He pants heavily against the man’s lips, digging his nails into the meat of his lover’s shoulders while he slowly accustoms to the pleasant heat and thickness inside of him. And, he can’t help it, but he’s acutely aware of those six sets of peculiar bumps inside of him, and of how  _ wonderful _ they felt sliding into him.

“Fuck,” he hears his boyfriend breathe into the air between them, eyes squeezed shut, as Hanzo experimentally clenches around him. McCree is not small by any means, not in stature nor ego nor confidence, and definitely not in terms of his endowment below the belt. But, well, when they’d first gotten together, Hanzo had been a virgin, and, since then, he’d gotten more than used to his lover’s size. Hell, he’d even come to  _ crave _ this impossibly full feeling that only Jesse could give him. Not that he’d ever tried to sleep with anyone else, no, but he knew that no one could compare to his cowboy’s thickness, nor the way he filled him up so nicely. Hanzo delights in the way McCree sucks in a deep breathe when he grinds down against him, feeling those bumps on his lover’s cock roll against his insides at the movement. 

It was his turn to curse when Jesse started to slide back, those bumps on his thickness rubbing against him in all the right ways. Hanzo shuts his eyes in bliss, tilting his head up and exposing the expanse of his neck to McCree, who happily bends down to bite and suck at skin he has not marked in so long. He clenches around the emptiness when his lover slides back to the tip, those pleasurable bumps and wonderful full feeling abandoning him for just a moment before Jesse snaps his hips back forward, burying himself to the hilt once more. “ _ Fuck, Jesse _ ,” Hanzo shouts, back arching at the rough treatment. God, it’s exactly what he’s been dreaming of and craving for months, and, if the wolfish grin pressed against his neck is any indication, Jesse is more than willing to give it to him. 

McCree starts to set a steady, deep rhythm of hard and fast thrusts that reach so  _ deep _ inside of him, so  _ good _ , that Hanzo fears he’ll become addicted if he’s not careful. When his cowboy angles his hips just right, and presses against that delightful bundle of nerves that Hanzo has trouble finding on his own, he knows that he already is completely and utterly enthralled by his lover and his cock. Jesse moves to swallow down the ragged shout that rips out of Hanzo at the feel of his prostate being so brutally abused, tongue thrusting into his archer’s mouth and playing with him despite his slack jaw. He can barely reciprocate, not when McCree is fucking into him at a practically  _ punishing _ pace. 

And then, oh god, his lover does what he always does that drives him  _ wild _ . The damn cowboy starts  _ speaking _ , in that insufferable deep, whiskey-smooth voice that never ceases to add to the fire of arousal that burns in Hanzo’s stomach. He says all the right things, whispering them against his lips in a voice thick with the sound of sex and smoke, “baby, fuck, I missed you so much,” Hanzo can’t help but moan unabashedly at the wonderful sound of that pet name rasped against his lips, and Jesse knows what it does to him, it’s evident in the smile that he feels against his mouth, “an’ I missed this, missed fuckin’ you and hearin’ you moan my name like you always do, and,  _ oh fuck _ ,” Hanzo feels the man stutter in his pace when he clenches around him, the filthy words that spill out of his lover’s mouth leaving him dizzy with desire, “fuck,  _ Hanzo _ , wanna wake you up like this  _ every _ morning.” Then he breaks off into a low groan, and surges forward once more to swallow down the incoherent noises that Hanzo is letting out in response to his lover’s ministrations.

“Please, Jesse,” he mumbles mindlessly, when the man in question parts from him to drag in ragged breaths, “ _ more _ ,” Hanzo manages to say, and he barely has a moment to recover when, suddenly, his lover pushes his legs up and practically folds him in half. If he had thought the last steady and deep pace was punishing, then this was pure torture, as McCree fucked into him in quick little jackrabbit thrusts, pounding against his prostate. The archer, not for the first time tonight, wonders what in the hell those bumps on his lover’s cock are but, when he feels them slide against his sensitive inner walls, he realizes he does not  _ care _ . Hanzo thanks the Gods for his flexibility, as he rolls his hips down as best he can, letting out stuttered moans with every quick thrust that McCree gives him. 

Lewd noises fill the room and assault Hanzo’s eardrums, the wet sound of Jesse’s cock pistoning in and out of him accompanied by the harsh slap of skin on skin serving as a backbeat to Jesse’s filthy words (that Hanzo cannot, honestly, actually comprehend, with how quickly he’s approaching the edge) and the archer’s mindless sounds of pleasure. All that encompasses his thought processes is  _ Jesse _ , and the sounds that they’re making, and the white-hot pleasure that’s crackling through his veins like electricity. Hanzo manages to grab at Jesse’s face, palms settling against his sweaty skin just tight enough that it’s easy for him to yank him down, to slot their open mouths together sloppily, as the coil in the pit of his stomach winds tighter and tighter and  _ tighter _ . His legs slip from their perch over Jesse’s shoulders, but his lover grabs them before they can fall too far, keeping his hips elevated off the bed while he continues to drive into him  _ just right _ . 

“Jesse,” he manages to breathe out, because,  _ fuck _ , he’s so close, he has to let him know, before his cowboy is tangling their tongues together and throwing the rest of his coherent thought out of the window. He can’t stop himself, as his arms wind around Jesse’s shoulders, blunt fingernails digging crescents into his lover’s shoulders, and his back arches, the coil in his gut ready to snap at any second. McCree grinds mercilessly against that spot inside of him, chasing his own release, as they part from each other’s mouths so they can suck in sorely-needed breaths. 

“Han,” his cowboy moans, eyes screwed shut as Hanzo turns his bleary gaze away from where Jesse was fucking into him up to his face, confusion coloring his expression,“I… god  _ damn _ ,” Jesse pauses in his brutal thrusts, leaving Hanzo teetering at the edge, which he expresses his annoyance at with a pitiful whine, though his lover has wrenched his eyes open and is staring at his face with a determined look. He manages to nod, only slightly coherent, and McCree presses their sweaty foreheads together, forcing Hanzo to look at him and only him. Not that he had been looking anywhere else. 

“Hanzo,” Jesse starts again, sucking in a shuddering breath as he starts to gently rock his hips, keeping the archer right there at the edge, “m’ in love with you, fuck, I love you so damn much I can’t believe it.” 

Hanzo feels the air punched out of him at the confession. He knows he loves Jesse McCree and, somewhere, deep down, he assumed that those feelings were not reciprocated. That, even after months and months of long-distance dating, that Jesse was only with him for sex, his own insecurities rearing their heads in the most subtle of ways. But this, this affirmation that he was not the only one that was in love, this whispered confession in the throes of passion, this is enough to fill Hanzo with warmth and adoration at the knowledge that Jesse McCree is  _ in love with him _ .

“I… I as well,” Hanzo manages to pant out, though his head is still swimming from the pleasure kept stagnant in his midsection with the help of Jesse’s steady rocking, “I am also… In love with you, Jesse McCree,” he gasps out, eyes locked on his lover’s even though his vision is blurry from overstimulation, and his cowboy turns his head to slot their lips together and swallow down any unnecessary words that Hanzo might’ve thought to say. They didn’t need anymore words, not when Jesse was quickening his pace from the slow grind he’d been at to the bed-rocking thrusts. Even if Hanzo had had anything else to say, it had all flown out the window when McCree began to brutally abuse his prostate once more. 

As close as Hanzo had been before his boyfriend’s confession, it did not take him long to rush back to the precipice. With his boyfriend’s hands on his upper thighs, right beneath the swell of his ass, and with that delectable cock spearing him with every thrust, Hanzo felt his balls tighten with his impending release. And, apparently, Jesse could tell, groaning against his mouth as he clenched around that sinfully large erection. 

“Close,” Jesse breathes into his parted lips, and Hanzo echoes it with his own warning, tightening his hold on the taller man’s shoulders to keep them pressed together as they start to tip over into a sea of ecstasy. It’s only when McCree snaps his hips forward and whispers, “love you,” against his mouth does Hanzo finally, blissfully, throw his head back and arch upwards, the coil in his abdomen snapping in the most delicious way, waves of pleasure crashing against him as he falls into the abyss. 

He comes in spurts against his and Jesse’s abdomen, ropes of it smearing between the two of them as Jesse rolls his hips into that tight,  _ impossibly tight _ , heat. He tumbles off the edge mere seconds after Hanzo, buried to the hilt inside of him with their hips pressed together. McCree whispers a litany of ‘I love you’s against Hanzo’s feverish, sweaty skin, while he gently rolls his hips inside of his lover, filling him to the brim with his cock and his release. Hanzo takes every kiss and confession and returns it with one of his own, all while clenching down tightly on his lover’s erection and greedily milking him for every drop. 

His cowboy collapses against him, their slick spend smearing between their abdomens while they lazily kiss. Hanzo is secretly glad Jesse doesn’t pull out immediately, enjoying the feel of that sloppy mess inside of him far more than he feels like he should. His legs fall to the bed, resting against the covers as Jesse maneuvers them to lay on their sides while, regretfully, slipping out of his hole. Hanzo feels those pleasurable bumps slide out of him slowly, and curiosity takes over as he reaches down and grabs at his cowboy’s cock, fingers searching along the wet shaft. Jesse gasps and scrabbles down to grab at his hand, though Hanzo has already found one of the sets, and is gently playing with it, feeling either end move, with a bar set underneath Jesse’s skin.

“What are these…?” Hanzo asks, voice breathy and colored with confusion. The feel of those slick, still warm metal balls under his fingers is odd, although not altogether unpleasant. The way that they felt inside of him certainly wasn’t unpleasant either. 

“Ah,” Jesse starts, his breathing strained as Hanzo presses the flat of his palm against the underside of his shaft, toying with the entire set, “they’re, uh, piercings,” Hanzo twists his head up, staring slack-jawed at the man in front of him as the revelation settles in, although McCree is still barrelling on, rambling even as he’s rubbing against Hanzo’s palm (although his cock doesn’t thicken, not so soon after their last round), “heard from some Blackwatch guys that they feel mighty fine and, well, thought I’d get a few and, after they healed, found out that those boys were  _ not lyin’ _ cuz, fuck,” he’s grinning slightly and shaking his head, Hanzo’s hand retreating so he can focus more on what his lover was saying, “I come so much harder with these bad boys than I ever did before. Plus, well, heard they’d feel good on the receiving end too…” He pauses and grins, waggling his eyebrows down at the archer. 

Hanzo’s cheeks darken at that, a ruddy red coloring his skin as he ducks his head down to bury it in his lover’s chest, feeling the soft, wiry hair that his pectorals are dusted with rub against his face. Jesse laughs, curling his arms around Hanzo and tugging him flush against him. He melts against him, rather content for the time being, although he feels the spend between them cooling in the early autumn air, something that will rapidly become disgusting-feeling. 

“Oh, sugar, we’re  _ filthy _ ,” Jesse mumbles into his head, as if he read Hanzo’s thoughts. His hand wanders down Hanzo’s side and around to his hole, briefly stopping to give his ass a squeeze before his fingers tease the rim of his slick entrance. Hanzo bites back a groan, trying not to let his lover know how much he  _ really _ enjoys this, before his cowboy is plunging two thick digits into him and toying with the mess of come and lube slicking up his insides. He can’t help the moan that escapes him. Jesse chuckles, and he feels it against his cheek, as he presses at his sensitive walls, “baby, you’re downright  _ messy _ here though,” he pauses and scissors his fingers rather uselessly in his gaping entrance, “y’like that, don’t’cha sweetie? Like being fucked and full of my come?” 

Hanzo pauses for a moment, sucking in a breath, and he’s about to deny it when Jesse’s fingers move to pull back and he unintentionally clenches down around them. Pitifully, as an answer to his lover’s soft laugh, he nods his assent. McCree hums happily, and Hanzo listens to his soothing melody through his chest, with his lazy heartbeat as a backbeat, and slowly drifts into a pleasant, post-coital slumber. 

It’s a dreamless, deep sleep, that Hanzo eagerly slips into. Sated and calm as he was, with Jesse there, he had nothing to dream about. 

He feels like it’s barely been a moment before he awakens again, pleasure assaulting him almost immediately. It takes a moment for him to come back to himself but, when he does, he realizes that Jesse is back to being buried inside of him, and those  _ piercings _ are rubbing against his inner walls in all the right way. He tosses his head back, resting it against Jesse’s shoulder as the man continues his slow, lazy thrusts. 

“Oh, yer awake,” his lover says, as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of him, or like he wasn’t holding Hanzo’s leg up to give himself some leverage and make it easier to fuck into him. The archer nods numbly, even though it wasn’t a question, and clenches around his lover. Thrusts crescendoing, Jesse tilts his head with the other calloused palm and captures his lips in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Even though he’d just woken up, he feels like he’s been hard and aching for  _ hours _ , and, considering he didn’t know when his cowboy had started fucking him again, he might as well have been.

McCree parts from him to speak sinfully against his open mouth, words like ambrosia in how thick and sweet they are, and Hanzo eagerly swallows every  _ syllable _ , “baby, y’know you talk in yer sleep, right?” He asks, though he doesn’t wait for an answer, not that the archer was actually lucid enough to be able to respond coherently, “it’s just lil’ things, like somethin’ about honor, or Genji, but my favorite thing y’said was,” he pauses and presses as close as he can, sinking so deep that Hanzo swears he could place his hand on his abdomen and  _ feel _ the man through the layers of skin and muscle, however impossible that was. 

Jesse gently rocks against him, barely moving his hips while he steals another kiss and, when he moves to speak again, his voice is nothing but pure, unadulterated sin, husky with sex and smoke,“m’favorite thing was when I couldn’t wait for you to wake up, and I pressed into yer sloppy lil’ hole, y’moaned my name like a filthy slut.” 

Hanzo gasps at that, clenching around his lover and practically  _ sobbing _ when his cowboy growls and thrusts his tongue into the archer’s open mouth, toying with him, though he’s unresponsive, overwhelmed with the pleasure assaulting him from every angle. Jesse pulls back, and the lack of fullness hits him, escaping his throat in the form of a desperate moan that his lover greedily swallows. He doesn’t leave him for long, hips snapping forward when he made his way halfway out. Hanzo reaches back and digs his nails into the meat of his lover’s thigh, trying to drag him forward whenever he moves to pull back, but he can’t do much other than hold on for dear life as his cowboy fucks into him in quick, deep thrusts. 

“And,” Jesse starts, wrenching himself from the man’s lips to speak once more, even as his thrusts start to lose their consistency, “y’kept saying my name, over and over, while I fucked ya messy and good,” Hanzo nods dumbly, gasping and moaning under his lover’s hands, though Jesse isn’t much better, what with his stuttered grunts and groans that he can’t hold back, that keep breaking up his speech as he speaks filthy,  _ filthy _ words against the archer’s feverish skin, “damn near thought I’d come before y’even woke up,” he barks out a laugh and shifts to bite onto his neck, hard enough that Hanzo knows it’ll bruise, “want y’ta go to sleep a fucked out mess and wake up one, darlin’, all full of my come and still  _ beggin’ _ for more.” 

He can’t stop himself, not when his lover is telling him such nasty things, not when he’s pistoning his hips into him without any sort of rhythm, and not when McCree kisses the mark he’d left on his neck and whispers, “love you,” against the abused skin. Hanzo’s back arches like a bow with the string pulled tight, and comes for what was probably the second time that day, all across the crumpled, soiled sheets of the bed. Jesse shouts his name, more vocal than the last time he’d tipped over the precipice, and shoves in fully, hips stuttering with every thick rope that he fills Hanzo up with. The archer greedily takes every drop, moaning his lover’s name under his breath as he enjoys the molten white heat that decorates his insides. 

Again, McCree doesn’t pull out immediately, letting Hanzo savor every second of the thickness encompassing him, and the wet mess that Jesse left inside. His cowboy peppers his neck with kisses, sucking the occasional hickey into the alabaster skin, as they both try and catch their breath, post-coital bliss bleeding into exhaustion and soreness. When Jesse inevitably slips out of him, Hanzo cannot hold back his whine of disappointment, especially since his gaping hole makes it difficult to clench down and keep that mess inside him for as long as possible. Sooner than he wants, the mess is steadily dripping out of him, making a mess of the sheets that are already more than filthy. Jesse makes a noise that might be somewhere between pain and arousal, that Hanzo has barely a moment to think about before his thick, calloused digits are plugging him up again, trying to keep the mess inside of him. 

“Fuck, yer real filthy,” Jesse mutters, to which Hanzo nods, not exactly trusting his voice to remain steady enough to respond, “y’like it tho. And,” he twists his fingers and the archer’s overstimulated body protests, although his traitorous cock still jerks with interest (it won’t be getting back up anytime soon, not after two rounds in the span of however many hours), “I like filling ya up with it. S’real nice to watch it drop outta ya, and t’see you enjoy yerself.”

“I love you,” Hanzo says back, content, finally finding his voice as he twists in the other man’s embrace, while Jesse’s fingers slip out of him at the movement. Their eyes lock and he leans in to steal a soft kiss, ignoring the slightly arousing, slightly uncomfortable, feeling of come and lube dripping out of him. Jesse is staring at him with unabashed adoration, looking every bit as in love as Hanzo was. The warmth of it settles in Hanzo’s bones, while they cuddle close together, not falling asleep but merely sharing each other’s presence in the privacy of his room.

“Love y’too darlin’,” Jesse responds, snagging a kiss before he buries his head in the other’s hair, inhaling the scent of sweat and sex and  _ Hanzo _ , while the archer lazily draws patterns on the skin of his cowboy’s pectoral. They’re quiet for long moments, reveling in the warmth and feeling of being home. Hanzo decides to break the silence, eyes sliding from his lover’s chest up to his eyes to catch his attention. 

“Jesse?” The way he says his voice, soft and low, with love underlying the two syllables in that perfect name, have his cowboy tilting his head down to look at him. 

McCree could always look at him like that, Hanzo decides, feeling a surge of adoration in his gut at the sight of those soft amber eyes pointed his way. “Yes, Hanzo?”

“Please,” he starts to respond, before tilting his head and stealing the softest of kisses from those eager lips, “wake me up like that always.”

Jesse’s eyes widen for a moment, though those soften as he snuggles in closer, pulling his filthy lover against his chest as tight as he can, while his heart beats double time against his chest. Hanzo can hear the staccato beats through his pectorals, and silently wonders what he did to deserve someone like Jesse McCree. 

“Anything you want, sugar. As long as I’m alive, I’m gonna treat you right”

Hanzo had never heard a better promise. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> AS ALWAYS LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK, sorry it's pure PORN.
> 
> come pester me on tumblr at cawaiiey or twitter @cawaiiey_ !


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